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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161788">Short SPN Fic #10</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/motw/pseuds/motw'>motw</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthdays, he could have shot everyone, maybe throwing dean winchester a surprise party isn't a great idea, suprises</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:16:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>554</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/motw/pseuds/motw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A wet pipe factory, Sam? Was the morgue closed???</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Short SPN Fic #10</h2></a>
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    <p>Dean gestured towards Sam, signaling him to cover the back entrance to the abandoned wet pipe factory while Dean entered the front. Sam raised his fist in acknowledgement, and slipped around the corner. Dean slowly pushed open the door and walked inside, the musky scent of stale water and old pipes hitting him in the face. Dean stepped lightly through the hallway, his eyes adjusting to the dark. </p><p>They didn't know exactly what they were looking for, but they knew it was here, and they knew it had killed. Sam had checked the lore, and the lore never lied to Sam. Dean kneeled down and touched the floor. Sure enough, not just stagnant water. There was blood here as well. Dean rose and confirmed his safety was off. He reached for his flashlight, but then stopped himself. Better to be in the dark, so the thing wouldn't see him coming. The further he went into the building, the more the humidity and stink increased, until he felt like he was sweating rusty water through his canvas jacket. </p><p>A low scraping noise came from a doorway ahead, and he walked towards it, making sure to avoid the bits of broken pipe and metal on the ground. Dean posted up next to the doorway. Despite doing this a million times, despite a lifetime's worth of training and practice, this always made him nervous. His heart rate increased, and his stomach clenched. From inside came another scraping noise, and then a low whistle. The bird like song seemed out of place here, but Dean understood. Sam was in position. </p><p>Dean jumped back, slamming open the door with his foot, almost ripping it off the hinges. He rushed in low and fast, holding his gun out and watching for movement. Not seeing any he quickly checked his corners, nothing there. Then, blinding light. All around him. Voices, yelling. A chorus of voices, and laughter. </p><p>"SURPRISE!" Dean blinked until he could see. The inside of this room had been converted to a festive party, with streamers floating from corner to corner, and a giant paper sign that says "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN!" hanging from the far wall. A cheerfully decorated table held an enormous cake (Dean registered it was in the shape of the Impala without really thinking about it). Around this table, his friends. His family. All of them smiling at him. Cas, Bobby, Joe, Ellen, Pete, Irv, Tracy. . even Ash. They were all here. He looked at them, stunned, and saw Sam in the corner, smiling and laughing, holding up a beer in salute. Sam winked, knowing he had gotten one over on Dean. </p><p>Dean broke, crying and laughing at the same time. He walked towards his friends and family, and they surrounded him, hugging him. Dean wasn't much of a hugger, but in this embrace he felt something in his chest loosen, and something almost like peace crept into his heart. "Well, idgit, happy birthday! I think Sam got you pretty good this year. What do you have to say for yourself?" Bobby asked. Dean had never been as lost for words as he was right now. He looked at this group, the cake, the cheap but perfect birthday decorations. He looked at all of this and said the first thing that popped into his mind. </p><p>"Swag. "</p>
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